


Lost and Rescued

by lionsmuse



Series: Lost and Rescued [1]
Category: Amazingskies, Charlieskies, Dan Howell - Fandom, Phandom, Phil Lester - Fandom
Genre: M/M, References to Suicide, Self Harm, angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionsmuse/pseuds/lionsmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil has been kicked out of his home, and is forced to walk the rainy streets of London.  Dan finds him, broken and battered, and saves him.<br/>"I had lost feeling in my toes and hands hours ago.  I no longer cared though, my mind felt numb too.  Blank.  Clean.  Like an artist had a big plan for a magnificent painting, but left the canvas blank.  The artist had given up and moved on."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Emily- Happy Birthday, Lots of love

Where am I? What am I doing? Why am I so stupid?  
The dark streets of London were unforgiving in their icy cold way that only this city could pull off. Rain was coming down in sheets, making it hard to see even a few feet in front of me. My coat did nothing to protect me from the harsh winds that seemed to go straight through me and reside in my very bones. My breath came out in little pants, creating puffs of visible air in front of me. The only sounds I could hear other than the pounding rain bouncing off of tin roofs, was my teeth chattering and the small whimpers and sobs that choked out through my too tight throat.  
I am so lost.  
I had been walking all day, all night, walking walking walking. Escaping. Escaping the horrible life that I have and escaping my head.  
I don’t want to think about my dad or what he did to me. I don’t want to think or feel or care.  
My shoes squished out water when I stepped. I had lost feeling in my toes and hands hours ago. I no longer cared though, my mind felt numb too. Blank. Clean. Like an artist had a big plan for a magnificent painting, but left the canvas blank. The artist had given up and moved on.  
I am so tired. I am so cold.  
Those are my only two thoughts. No shops or cafes were open this late. Neon signs advertised booze and cigarettes but the signs attached to the door read closed. The lights were hazy and undefined, sometimes double and swimming around in my vision. Was it the rain that was causing my weird vision or was it something else?  
I know I should be scared. I am in a city filled with murders and kidnappers but I can’t be bothered to care what would happen to me. My name and picture would just be in a small newspaper, Headline: Tragic Death of Phil Lester Age 17.  
I don’t care though. My limbs ache with exhaustion and my stomach growls with hunger.  
I spot a bench off a ways in a park. I quicken my pace to get to it.  
I sit down on the slippery surface, the cold sending me into violent shivers and convulsions. Tremors rock through my body like earthquakes.  
I throw my arm over my face to try and protect it from the cold as I lay down. I guess this will work for tonight. Sobs come out of my mouth, my jaw aching from being tensed for so long. I can feel every bruise he left on my body. And every single one hurts like it did the moment his fist connected with my flesh. I close my eyes and send up a silent prayer that I would wake up in the morning and everything would come back to normal.  
***  
“Are you dead?”  
I wake with a jolt and snap open my eyes. Brown eyes pierce through me, hovering over mine.  
Instinctively, I throw my hands over my face to protect myself. Water droplets fling onto my face and hair, the icy water making me shiver once more.  
“You ok? I won’t hurt you, ya’know.”  
Slowly, I lower my arm enough so I can get a good look at him. He has brown hair, longer like mine, and he’s rather tall. I could tell even though he was bent over me. I noticed his hand was placed lightly on my arm, he had shaken me apparently. That is what must have woken me. I felt my heart rate shoot up. He would hurt me, I knew it. He knew about me didn’t he? Father must have sent him out to find me and finish the job.  
“Please don’t,” I gasp, closing my eyes and tensing my body for the oncoming pain. After a few moments of silence, I open my eyes only a slit, to see what was going on. The boy’s face looked horrified. What happened? Did he know about me? What was going on?  
“What /happened/ to you?” The boy said with a broken whisper.  
He glanced at my arm outstretched over my face, and looked away before quickly returning his gaze to it. My coat was a little too small in the arms and they exposed a bit of my forearms and wrist.  
Oh.  
We both looked at the destroyed skin, scars and fresh wounds in perfectly straight lines layered on top of each other completely covered my skin.  
The boy’s eyes quickly flashed to my face and his eyes swam with tears for a moment before he released my arm and scrubbed at his face.  
He slowly reached for my outstretched arm and closed his hand over mine, I jumped but he held strong. He pulled me into a sitting position, and my head spun for a few moments, patches of lights distorted his face.  
My stomach growled.  
“Are you hungry?” The boy asked.  
I nod slightly and the boy pulls me to my feet. Everything hurts once I stand and I gasp as I feel joints click as they get stretched. I reach for my eye; the bruise there is swollen and hot to the touch. The boy hasn’t let go of my other hand yet. I am nervous but strangely, I feel safe. Warm, that’s it. This boy is warm.  
The rain has stopped from the night before, and as the boy starts dragging me along, we have to dodge some puddles.  
“So, what’s your name?” The boy asked, his hand lightly squeezing mine.  
“Phil,” I mumble and then curse myself, if this guy is working for Father, then he knows it’s me for sure now.  
“I’m Dan. Nice to meet you,” he says and swings our arms a bit.  
And I am scared and I am broken, but I think, I have Dan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has been kicked out of his home, and is forced to walk the rainy streets of London. Dan finds him, broken and battered, and saves him. "I don’t want anyone to know, I could just disappear and quietly slip out. No one would care, I would blow away in the wind, like a small leaf throw into flight, forgotten and ignored."

“Are you working for my father?” I blurt out; I needed to know so if I had to, I could make an escape plan.  
“What? No, I was just walking and I saw you on the bench I thought you were dead because it didn’t look like you were breathing and you looked pretty beat up and yeah," He talked in big gulps, words seemed to fly out of his mouth at an extremely fast pace. Was he lying?  
“It’s not important,” I mumble and hang my head a little, eyes trained on my shoes. God I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want anyone to know, I could just disappear and quietly slip out. No one would care, I would blow away in the wind, like a small leaf throw into flight, forgotten and ignored.  
“It’s ok, I won’t pry,” Dan said grinning and turning his head to me. He squeezed my hand and I started feeling a little panicky again.  
“Why are you helping me out anyways?” I ask. He had to want something from me. Was he going beat me up in some dark alley? Did he want me to repay him in some way? Money? Sex? Drugs? I can’t figure out his motivation.  
Dan slowed his brisk pace, and I slowed mine to match. He sighed deeply and looked at my face, searching my features. His eyes locked on mine and for a tense second, we both didn’t move. He looked away then, his cheeks reddening lightly and licked his lips.  
“I just want to make sure you are going to be ok,” he trailed off toward the end, glanced at my arm again and then quickened back to the normal pace. I didn’t want to pressure him so I just continued walking.  
“Thanks for caring about me, Dan. Thanks for stopping,” I say, quietly as my voice shook.  
I’m trying to justify to myself why I’m walking with him. I could blame it on curiosity or being a push over, but really, he was just the first person to ask me how I was doing. He was attractive, I guess, and he seemed like he had good intentions. I wouldn’t know him for long though, as soon as he leaves I’ll carry on with my master plan. Getting out. But, I don’t think I could ever forget him.  
He turns his head and nods, flopping his fringe into his face and then fixing it with one hand. I could tell he had done the maneuver many times.  
“Of course Phil, so since I’m treating you to a fantastic meal, I get to pick the restaurant. I know a great one only a little walk off, do you like Italian?” He asked, his expression seemed guarded. What did he have to hide though?  
“Italian is great!” My stomach clenched at the thought of eating again. I hadn’t for days, Father wouldn’t let me. I had been bad and needed to be punished. So he took food away.  
As we arrived at the restaurant, I noticed the sun was setting, I had been asleep all day, and yet I was still exhausted. Hopefully the food would make me feel better. Even though I was starving, I felt like throwing up because I was so anxious. The thought of Father furious was constantly on the back of my mind. What would he do if he found me out here? Dan dropped my hand and my stomach dropped as well, he was going to leave me. The only person who had ever asked me if I was ok was leaving me. How dare he?  
But before I could get too scared, I realized we were in front of the restaurant, the sign read Romano and the m flickered every few seconds. Dan reached out and pulled the door open for me.  
“After you,” he murmured and lightly placed his hand on my back. I jumped, he touched a bruise. I gasped and clenched my teeth to stop from screaming out.  
Dan grabbed my hand and pulled me up to the front, where a man dressed in a sports jacket stood with menus in hand.  
“Table for two?” he asked, eyeing our locked hands.  
“Yes, sir,” Dan said as the man led us to a table in the back.  
The room was small, but not tiny. It had red walls with paintings of angels and horses pulling chariots in delicate gold strokes. There was a violinist playing soft tunes at the front and the airy music floated through the room. It was beautiful. And expensive. Most of the tables were taken up by couples, laughing and sipping wine. I envied them and I hated myself for it. I should be happy with what I have.  
Dan tugged me into a booth and he sat across from me. He let go of our hands, and the cool air instantly chilled it.  
“Can I interest you gentlemen in any beverages?” The waiter asked.  
“Just water,” I said quickly, there was no way I’d let Dan buy me anything expensive.  
Dan, glaring at me, answered in an annoyed breath, “Same for me.”  
The waiter whisked off and I flipped open the menu looking at my choices. I looked for the cheapest thing on the menu and went with it. Spaghetti, something Mother had made many years ago. God I miss her. I felt my mind drift, back to when she was here. Back when she could stand up to Father and protect me.  
She was a good mom I guess, but I still hate her for leaving me alone with that monster of a human.  
“PHIL DO YOU READ ME ARE YOU STILL HERE?”  
I snapped back to the present and noticed Dan was waving his hand in front of my face.  
 _Father’s hand brushed over the spot he had just hit. The pain was blinding and my vision was growing dark around the edges. His hand waved in front of my face to see if I was still responsive._  
 _“It’s for your own good, Phil. I told you I’d have to beat it out of you if you kept having those thoughts. You brought this upon yourself!” He screamed and slapped me once more._  
 _“Stop please!” I screamed, the room echoed. I cowered in the corner and tried to protect my face from his attack._  
 _“Stand up boy and face your father when he’s talking,” he said as he took the final swing and punched me out cold._  
I quickly snapped back, Dan was crouched next to me, his chestnut eyes filled with relief when he saw me move.  
“Oh, Phil what is going on- ”  
“I’m sorry but I have to leave now,” I said cutting him off. I placed my napkin on the table and pushing up onto my feet. His hand reached out and grabbed my wrist.  
“Phil, no stop what are you doing?” He asked quickly rising to his feet. His face had pure terror written all over it.  
“I’m sorry, Dan, but I just met you and you are going to hurt me and I can’t stay here anymore. Thank you for asking me if I was okay though,” I said, as I started walking away.  
“Phil stop!” Dan yelled as he started jogging to ketch up with me. Customers stopped talking and everyone turned to watch the scene unfolding in front of them.  
“I’m sorry Dan,” I say, walking backwards and open the door. “I just can’t trust you, I don’t know you and I don’t know what you are doing.”  
“I’m not going to hurt you, Phil, I just wanted to help you out! You aren’t okay! I don’t want you to do something you will regret!” Dan yells, but his eyes were soft and pleading. He keeps coming closer, approaching me like I was a wounded wild animal.  
I step onto the sidewalk outside and Dan quickens his pace.  
I need to get away from him. I turn and start running. My shoes pound on the asphalt and every joint screams with pain.  
Dan came racing after me and I turn a hard left, going straight into the road. Cars zoomed past and I try dodging them back they were going way too fast. I am stuck. I stare at as a giant truck came barreling straight toward me. The bright headlights transfix me. They were honestly beautiful. They would be the last thing I saw, and I was ok with that. I closed my eyes and raised my arms.  
“Finally,” I breathed as the truck slammed on its horn.  
Suddenly I was tackled to the ground my head bounces once, twice, three times until it comes to a rest.  
My ears ring, am I dead? But I see the lights of the truck speed off into the night. If I didn’t get hit by that then what did hit me…  
Dan.  
He laid onto of me, his hands curled into my jacket as he breathed heavily.  
“Phil… Phil…Phil,” he panted and tears fell onto my jacket.  
He saved me. He jumped in front of a car for me. He risked his life for me.  
Oh my God.  
“You… you saved me,” I said, pulling us to the edge of the road and out of any car’s path.  
“Yeah, yeah I guess I did,” he said, smiling as tears ran down his cheeks.  
“That’s twice now,” I said and rested my head on his shoulder. His hand moved up to clutch my hair as he sobbed.  
“Don’t ever leave me, Phil,” he rasps, his voice thick.  
“Never,” I reply.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has been kicked out of his home, and is forced to walk the rainy streets of London. Dan finds him, broken and battered, and saves him. “Every night I had silently screamed for help, every night I wanted someone to hold my hand, to tell me it was ok, that things really would get better. I waited and plead and got worse and worse and self destruction, well that all I had."  
> For Emily

The taxi pulls to a stop in front of us and Dan opens up the door for me. I slide in, my aching joints relax finally and exhaustion sits in my head like a thick fog.  
Dan slides in and tells the driver the address to his flat and his hand searches for mine.  
“Dan, I mean are you sure I can stay the night?” I say, not meeting his eyes and instead looking at our interlocked hands. I like the way we fit together. His skin is much darker than mine, creating quite a color contrast.  
“Phil listen, I just want you to be ok. Obviously, you can’t be safe on your own,” he said with a smirk but his eyes spelled out sadness. “Just let me take care of you for a night. Take a hot shower. Sleep in an actual bed. I think you understand that I’m not going to hurt you, right? Please just let me do this for you,” Dan says quietly and quickly. His eyes lock with mine and I sigh.  
I think I can trust him for at least one night. Plus I didn’t get to eat and I could use a shower. I must smell terrible.  
I look out the window and consider my options. Dan stiffens next to me. What did he think I was going to do? Jump out and run off? That’d be the smart thing to do. But, he did save me from the truck. If he was out to get me, he would have just let it run me over.  
“Just tonight,” I say and turn back to him.  
He smiles big, an actual happy smile and releases a big breath.  
“Thanks Phil,” he murmurs and leans in close to me. I tense as he places his lips very lightly on top of my hair. His scent wafts into my nose and it smells, it smells of... something. I can’t put my finger on it. My mind switches from comfort to terror. My breaths hitch and my heart rate spikes.  
Too close too soon too close too soon no no NO.  
I remember what it smells like now. Not exactly the same, but it was similar.  
The walls of the car seem to be caving in. I can hear Dan saying something but he sounds like he’s a million miles away. I feel it. The shut down. The mental break that sends me to the end. Everything slows, all I can hear is the pounding in my head. I don’t want to remember what he did to me. I don’t want to /THINK/.  
Dan shouts at the driver and he pulls to the side of the road.  
Suddenly a hand is behind my back and another goes under my legs. Everything feels like it is happening to a body that isn’t mine. My mind has left my brain and is floating somewhere far off. I hear a car door slam. I am teetering between two realities. Bright lights flood my vision and I feel grass underneath my finger tips. Cautiously I curl my fingers into the wet and cool strands as I force myself to stay. Stay here. Stay with Dan. Stay in the present.  
But I feel the snap as I am forced to watch a nightmare while awake.  
 _“Shh Phil, it’s ok,” the man had said as he kissed my cheek._  
 _“Daddy!” I cried. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here to protect me?_  
 _He wasn’t here because he wanted this. He wanted this man to destroy me. He wanted this._  
 _“It’s ok Phil, I will take care of you,” the gross old man said with a purr as he rested his nose in my hair and breathed in. I kicked the man, punched him. I wasn’t going to let him get away with this._  
 _He just laughed and picked his shirt off the bed. He walked out of the room while I sat there screaming, the gash on my head bleeding into my eyes and mouth. The iron taste was like bile in my throat and I threw up._  
 _I couldn’t breathe and my mind felt fuzzy. I could barely remember what had happened a few minutes ago. All I knew was the man had broken me. I must have been drugged, that’s why I was so tired. I laid my head down on the damp pillow and shivered as my bare skin came in contact with the cool cotton._  
 _Why did this happen again? It was my last conscious thought until I let the drugs pull me to sleep._  
The world was spinning. Buildings faded in and out of focus. Trees grew and shrunk. My eyes searched for something to hang on to, something that was not moving. Dan. Dan was sat above me, one hand in my hair the other propping himself over me. His mouth was working, forming words but, no sound came out.  
I held onto Dan, not physically but mentally. He was like a rock on the middle of a crashing sea. I held on, for I knew if I slipped, I would be lost. The memory was fried into my brain and into the backs of my eyes. But Dan, Dan took away the pain.  
I opened my mouth and whispered, “Dan.”  
“Oh Phil,” Dan said in a broken whisper. “I’m so sorry Phil, so so sorry. I didn’t know, I didn’t know…” he rambled on and on as silent tears rolled down my face.  
“I didn’t know that would trigger you,” he said and covered his mouth as he squeaked, holding back a sob.  
“It’s fine Dan you didn’t know, I didn’t know either,” I mumbled whipping my eyes.  
Jesus, I am a mess.  
I am crying with this stranger, well he is a little bit better than a /stranger/, but still. Life saver or not, it does not give me the option to go crying all the time in front of him. I’m having a panic attack in front of him.  
I have to man up. Grow some balls as my father would say. But, maybe I do want help. I haven’t ever had someone /care/ about me. No one has ever genuinely cared about my well being or how I was feeling or what was going on. And dammit, I wanted it.  
How many nights had I stayed awake, praying, /pleading/ that someone would come into my life and help me? Every night I had silently screamed for help, every night I wanted someone to hold my hand, to tell me it was ok, that things really would get better. I waited and plead and got worse and worse and self destruction, well that all I had.  
That was the only thing I had control of in my life. I couldn’t control my father’s beliefs or beatings. I couldn’t control my mother leaving. I couldn’t control the terrible thing those men did to me. I couldn’t delete, could not forget what had happened. But for those few moments, /I/, was in control. There was never any pain, none. I never cried. I was happy, in a very sick way.  
Dan held out his hand to help me up. And I took it. I grabbed it, and I held on. I held onto him for dear life. My life was a collection of strings, every terrible thing that happened caused one to be cut. With each passing one, my will to fight left me. When Dan found me, I had no more strings. My father had cut each and every one. But now, there was a single thread. And that thread was Dan and he gave me hope and he gave me strength and I was /not/ losing him. Not now. Not ever.  
Dan helps me to my feet and brushes mud off my jeans.  
“Come on, let’s get you home,” Dan murmurs and I nod. I try to walk but everything /hurts/ and after taking a few painful limps, Dan wraps his arm around my waist to support me.  
“Is this ok?” Dan asks and I hesitate. He’s not going to hurt you Phil, I tell myself over and over again before answering.  
“Yeah Dan, it’s fine,” I turn my body so that ours can be pressed more comfortably together. He is slightly taller than me, so I can rest my head easily on his collar bone.  
His flat building looks nice, surrounded by other places like a gym and a cinema. There is a Chinese take away restaurant right next to it. I want to go in, but I honestly don’t think I can stay awake for much longer.  
Dan leads me into the building and directs me to the lift. He presses the button and as we wait for it to arrive, he waves at the doorman. The man doesn’t notice, he seems engrossed in this newspaper, which at a closer look, is hiding a gay porn magazine. I giggle and shake my head. Dan opens his mouth to speak but he closes it as the lift doors ding and open. His hand squeezes mine and we walk inside.  
He reaches out and punches the fourth floor button. I start to get a little panicky, but I keep squashing those thoughts down.  
“So, my apartment really isn’t that big, um it as a kitchen and a bedroom and a bathroom, and a tiny living space, like there isn’t even a couch. But you know how money can get tight after you get fired,” Dan said as the lift groaned up to his floor.  
“I’m sure it’s great, Dan. Thanks again,” I say.  
“Of course, Philly,” he says, not even noticing that he used a pet name. I notice though. And I think I like it.  
The doors open up and Dan has to practically drag me out I am so tired.  
“Come on Phil only a little more to go. Then you can take a shower and get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow you can tell me about what happened and we can take a look at those injuries, ok?” Dan asked while eyeing the bruise on my face.  
I can only must a grunt as a reply. We stop at flat number 403F and Dan fishes around in his pocket for the key. He slides it into the lock and with a hard twist, unlocks the door with a loud click. He drops my hand as he walks inside, flipping on a light next to the door.  
I take a couple steps in and look around. The walls are white, probably a standard with the flat’s code. It really /is/ tiny. There is a small kitchen on the right with a black stove and a white microwave, a small sitting area on the left with only room for a small, glass table and two chairs. A small television with a game consul is mounted on the wall. There is a closed door at the end of the hallway that I guess was the bathroom, and next to it was Dan’s room. There is a patterned rug on the floor that I think is Indian.  
He takes his coat off and throws it on one of the chairs before returning to me.  
“Do you need help with your coat or something?”Dan asks, gesturing to me.  
“What? Oh, no I have it,” I say and try to get my shaking fingers to pull down the zip. Only, they would work and I couldn’t get a grip on the pull. Dan sighs and walks over to me.  
“Just let me help, Philly,” he says, using the name again. He unzips it quickly and I close my eyes. No time for flash backs. Too tired.  
“Ok well I’ll help you with the shower then?” Dan asks.  
I nod and he takes my hand and pulls me to the door.  
“Ok I’ll go get you some pajamas to wear, because there is now way I’m gonna let you change back into those clothes,” Dan says and wrinkles his nose. “I’ll be right back, take off your shoes and socks while I’m gone,” Dan says, turning into his room.  
I sit down and untie the laces. It takes longer than it should of but my fingers just wouldn’t work. I give up and just kick them off.  
Dan returns carrying a little bundle and goes into the bathroom, turning on the light as he enters. He reaches in and turns the shower on.  
“So, um I’ll leave you to it then. Yell if you need anything,” Dan said, blushing slightly and biting down on his lip. God he was adorable.  
I stumble into the bathroom; my leg still aches with pain. I slip the shirt off my head and quickly unbutton my pants. I set all the dirty clothes in a pile and step under the steamy water.  
The second the water hits my back, I feel all the tension goes away. Everything aches, but my muscles can relax. I wash my hair and body slowly, and eventually just stand. I let the water spray down onto me and relax. I don’t think about anything. I just focus on breathing. In and out, in and out. The blood and mud mix together in the drain and turn the water a nasty brownish color. I stand until the water runs clear. I turn the dial off and step out. The air was thick with fog; I must have been in there for a while.  
I search around for a towel, but soon realize that I couldn’t find one. I search everywhere and open up the cabinet under the sink. I rummage around, becoming desperate. I am so cold and now shivering.  
Dammit where are the towels? I think to myself as I look through it one more time. My hand brushes up against something metallic and cool. I close my hand around it and pull it out. It is a box with a small latch on the front. I shouldn’t open it… I think, trying to not get curious. But it gets the better of me and I flip open the latch and open the lid. I am not prepared to see what was inside.  
Razor blades. About 10, some long and some short. There are band aids and a cleaning solution. These are all too familiar with me. Oh my God. I pick up one of the razors and look at it. I hear a quiet drip, drip, drip, and at first I think it is just my hair, but soon I realize that it is tears. No. Dan cannot be broken. Dan cannot be like me.  
Suddenly there is a loud banging on the door. I quickly drop the blade and the box overturns, blades going everywhere. “Phil are you ok? You have been in there for ages, I’m getting worried,” Dan’s voice is quivering and I want to scream. No please God not him too.  
“Philly, please are you ok?” Dan asks again, voice much more urgent. I try to answer, but I’m so cold that my jaw is shaking and I could only make a small gasping noise. I am not ok, Dan. And neither are you.  
“Phil?!” Dan screams, he must have heard the gasp. Shit shit shit. I try and put the blades away but everything is hard to pick up.  
“That’s it, I’m coming in!” Dan yells and I scramble to cover myself up. I am naked and he is going to see me. There are razor blades scattered across the floor. He will be angry.  
He opens the door quickly and assesses the situation. His face is expressionless. He looks at me for only a second before his eyes dart to the blades. His face does not change.  
He walks over to me slowly and helps me stand up. I do not think about how I am naked or how he can see all the scars or the bruises. I think about how broken he is and I try not to cry harder.  
“I forgot there were no towels in there,” Dan says as he picks up the pajamas and leads me to his room. He places the clothing on the bed and dig around in the closet. I try to cover myself up, but I can’t really do much. Dan hands me a towel and I dry off. He hands me a shit and I put it on. He hands me a pair of boxers and sweatpants. I put them on in silence. We are silent and there is only the sound of the drip of the shower. We do not talk about what I now know.  
I do not care that he has seen me. I am too tired and too shocked to care.  
“Why don’t we just go to bed and talk in the morning ok?” Dan asks, eyes pleading.  
“Ok,” I mutter and then look around for where I am going to sleep.  
Dan sighs and sits down on the bed. “Phil, I don’t have a couch for you to sleep on. I’m sorry.”  
“Oh,” I mutter, realizing that I am going to have to sleep next to him. I am terrified.  
“Phil, just lay down please. I am so tired, I swear I won’t do anything ok? I swear,” Dan says and lays back.  
I don’t think and walk over to him. I climb on top of the bed and lay beside him. We do not speak as he turns out the lights. He hands me half the blanket and we both get under it. We are so close that I can feel the heat coming off of him. I do not think of what that reminds me of.  
“Sleep Philly. I promise you are safe,” Dan says and turns away from me.  
I close my eyes and listen to our breathing. Dan’s has slowed to an even pace so he must already be asleep. I so realize I am no longer cold.  
I close my eyes and slowly drift to sleep, scared, but safe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has been kicked out of his home, and is forced to walk the rainy streets of London. Dan finds him, broken and battered, and saves him.  
> "I am in a bed with a boy that was actually gorgeous, and absolutely broken. And I am broken. And maybe, just maybe, our broken edges will fit together, and together we will become full."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im so sorry it took so long I have been super super busy love you all for staying though!  
> The Charlie mentioned is Charlieskies

I am dreaming.

_“Phil, where have you been?” Father’s voice is so loud the furniture rattles._

_“I’ve been out, Father, I was with some friends,” I say, thumbs subconsciously rubbing my wrists._

_“Out with faggots? Were you out with your little fag friends?  You don’t even have friends you filthy cock sucker,” Father says.  His eyes turn bright red, flames flicker in his irises._

_“No, no Father I was just with some of our neighbors!” my voice gets louder as he approaches.  His footsteps are like thunder and the ground starts cracking where he steps.  Walls crumple around us, and I turn to look for the front door.  Only the door has disappeared and the wall is blank._

_Father stands right in front of me, suddenly he is very tall and I cower under him._

_“You lying to me boy?” he spits out. His arm shoots out and grabs my wrist, fingers digging into new cuts.  It stings and I flinch._

_“What are these, fagot?” he says with a smirk and his eyes glint in their fiery flame._

_“I slipped on my way home, I fell in a bush,” I say easily.  He sees through my lies though.  He knows what they are._

_“You like pain then, right fag?” he asks and pulls out a knife.  I gulp._

_“No, it was…it was an accident...I...I sl-slipped on my way h-home,” I stammer, words getting caught in my too tight throat._

_“You are a liar, how dare you lie to your father?” he ask and lunges forward and stabs me in the stomach, blood comes rushing to stain my shirt and when I open my mouth to scream, blood comes bubbling out. My hands fly to my lips and lightly touch them.  Black blood coats my fingers and I collapse.  Father is laughing and he slowly turns into a monster.  His teeth enlarge and his back hunches over.  His fingers turn into long claws._

_“Goodnight fag,” he says as he buries the claws into my neck._

My eyes snap open and I sit straight up, lungs screaming for air.  I touch my lips, excepting black to be coating them, but as I pull my shaking fingers back, they are clean.  I sigh and relax, but suddenly tense.  Where _am_ I? I look around the dark room, and cannot remember anything in here.  My eyes finally land on the breathing lump next to me.

Oh, I’m with Dan.  His hand is stretched out toward me but his eyes are shut tight.  His hair is all over his face, and it is no longer straight.  It curls on top of his forehead and around his ears.    I like it better this way.  Slowly, his eyes crack open and he takes in my shaken form.

“Oh Phil,” he murmurs and sits up slowly.  He pulls me to him and guides my head to his shoulder.  

“Bad dreams, right? Don’t worry, I get those too.  But they aren’t real, I’m here I’ll protect you,” he says quietly.  I nod against his soft shirt and he feels so warm.  I want to curl up next to him forever.  I want him to take me away from those dreams.

“You gotta get some sleep babe,” he says, motioning to the red lights of his clock indicating that it was only 3 am.

I nod and let him pull me back down.  He takes my hand and twines our fingers together.  We lay so that his body faces mine and I face his, our hands rest between us.  He reaches out and pushes the sweaty hair off my forehead.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” he says quietly as he settles in.

“How did you know..?” I ask and trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

“You talk in your sleep,” he mumbles and moves closer to me.  Cautiously, he places his hand on my cheek and rests his thumb on my cheek bone.  He rubs in slow comforting circles.  I stay completely still, every muscle tensed. 

“Relax Philly, get some sleep,” Dan mumbles and removes his hand.  I’m surprised to find that I miss his warmth.  And that’s when I notice it.

I am in a bed with a boy that was actually gorgeous, and absolutely broken.   And I am broken.  And maybe, just maybe, our broken edges will fit together, and together we will become full.

 

 When I wake up a while later, I am completely at ease.  I do not want to open my eyes just yet; for fear that it would break the perfect tranquility that had settled in my mind.  It was the first time in months that I did not have fear throbbing in the back of my head like a growing tumor.  I feel slight warmth on my face from the sun coming in the open window.  Bird chirp quietly outside and the wind makes the trees shake.  Slowly, I open my eyes to see purple fabric.  My eyes try to focus, but I left my glasses at home and so it take a minute to figure out that it is Dan’s shirt.  Slowly my sleep filled brain realizes the scene in front of me.  My head is lying on Dan’s chest, his head pressed on the back of mine.  Our legs are twined together, knobby knees and boney ankles wrapped around each other.  One arm is holding me to his chest and the other hand is still locked in mine.  I haven’t ever been this close to someone before.  Well, someone safe before.  

I force myself to relax into him again, repeating in my mind safe, safe, safe, safe.

Dan quietly hums for a minute and the tune is heartbreakingly beautiful.

“What song is that?” I ask and my voice croaks a bit, my throat is extremely dry. 

“Oh nothing.  So you slept for a long time, you feel better?” Dan asks and I can feel his chin move against my skull.

“What time is it?” I ask and let my eyes slip closed for a second before opening them again. 

“Almost 2 in the afternoon.  You gotta be hungry right?” Dan asks quietly and his arm around me squeezes.

My stomach makes a noise that answers his question. 

“Alrightly then, how do pancakes sound?” he asks and slowly pulls away from under me.  I quickly sit up and my head rushes for a second before calming down again.  Dan gets out and stretches, his shirt pulls up a bit and exposes a thin streak of tanned skin.  I cannot help but notice the faint light lines that crisscross his belly. 

I turn and sluggishly flop out of bed and get to my feet.  Dan walks out of the room and into the kitchen, and I can hear him turn on the stove and rummage around for ingredients as I go to the bathroom.  The floor is still wet from last night and the small box has been pushed into a corner, he must have been up already before I had woken.  I pad into the kitchen, my toes cold on the tile floor.  Dan already has a small stack of pancakes on a plate and my stomach growls again.  He has two plates set on the table along with lemon and sugar.  I sit down quietly and fold my legs underneath the chair.  He returns a few minute later with two plates of pancakes in hand.  He places on in front of me and the other for him.  He pushes his hair out of his eyes and while doing so he leaves a big streak of flour on his forehead.  I giggle and reach across the table to fix it.  Dan’s eyes go crossed when I gently wipe the substance away.  His cheeks flush and he looks down.  I laugh again and return to my seat.  I start eating and even though the pancakes are not the best, I eat them as quickly as I can.  My stomach has been empty for far too long.  I didn’t care if they were rubbery or if they actually had no taste, I would _eat_.

God, and did that feel good.

Dan stares at me, but I don’t have time to feel self conscious, I just continue. He eats slower, but still finishes off the plate.  After I finish the plate I push it away and look up to Dan’s demanding gaze.  He looks at me with the saddest look, but there was no pity swimming in them. 

Dan clears his throat and asks, “Phil, how long has it been since you had proper meals?”

I pause for a moment, not wanting him to hear the truth.  “A while…” I say trailing off towards the end.  He doesn’t need a sob story.  He obviously had some problems of his own.  

“Well, don’t worry because I’ll make you food all the time.  Even if it’s terrible, it would be better than nothing right?” he says noticing my obvious discomfort and puts on a fake smile.

I pause for a second and think.  So he thinks this is going to be a permanent thing?  Before I can ponder much longer about what he said, he pulls me over to his room and my mind goes blank.  The only thought that goes through my head is Dan, Dan, Dan. 

“Sorry it’s kinda chilly in here, the heater broke a couple weeks ago and my landlord hasn’t been around to fix it yet,” he says as I sit down on his bed.  He quickly gathers a blanket and then a remote for the television mounted on his wall opposite us.

“Its fine,” I mumble as I try and get comfortable without touching Dan too much.  But Dan has other ideas and pulls me so I’m pressed against his side and he rests his head in my neck.

He turns on the tv to some cooking show and puts the volume on low.

“So, tell me about yourself Phil,” Dan asks and I seriously dread this conversation.

“Well what do you want to know?” I ask as he picks up my hand and starts playing with my fingers.    

“Everything,” he murmurs while cracking a grin, dimples coming out.  “But you can start with why you are so scared of your father.”  He places both of my hands in his and I grip him for strength.  If I have to pull up those memories it’s going to be painful.

I stay quiet for a moment before beginning.  I take a big breath and slowly let it out.

“Well, it all started after mum left.  She had found a new man and she ran off to America with him, completely leaving us behind.  I was only 14 at the time and my brother was off at uni so I never saw him.  It was just me and Father up in that small house on a hill.

“He worked a bad job, something with fixing computers, and he always complained about it.  He missed Mother and every morning he would stare out the window and look outside blankly until I had to leave for school.  Mother always used to drive me to school but now that she wasn’t there, I had to walk.  I hated it as the biggest bully at our school lived just down the street from me and he would always make sure to have time to rough me up before and after my classes.  By the time I was 15, Father was a raging alcoholic.  He would drink before work, then come home and drink until he would pass out right on the couch in the living room.  I didn’t mind though, he never really bothered me.  I never told him about getting beat up, I didn’t want to cause any unwanted issues and I thought I could handle it.  But soon he wasn’t only the kid down the street ganging up on me.  Soon his whole group took time out of their day to make my life miserable.  I wore long sleeves and long trousers to cover up the bruises I was collecting.

“On my 16th birthday a boy named Charlie moved in next door.  He was very kind but also very quiet.  I walked with him to school and it looked like I made a semi- friend.  He gave me good music to listen to and taught me how to get my hair straight.  He also told me about how he hated his life and he hated his family and how sad he was.  I couldn’t believe that someone would be that broken.  He had tons of scars along his arms but I never asked where they were from.  One day I had taken a particularly bad beating and when he found me in the hallway afterwards, he started yelling.  Not at me, but the gang of bullies.  Charlie ran right up to one of them and punched him so hard he flew back and cracked his head on the lockers.  We ran home but the gang didn’t follow us.  When we finally made it to our houses we ran into Charlie’s backyard and caught our breath.  After a couple minutes we started laughing and then I kissed him.  I don’t really know why I did I was just so thankful that he stood up for me.  But then his mom screamed when she saw us and dragged Charlie inside.  I didn’t know what to do so I ran to my house and locked myself in my room.  Soon Father came up and started yelling at me for kissing him and asked me if I was gay.  I told him I was because I really didn’t think it was a big deal.  I thought he wouldn’t care.

“But apparently he did and completely freaked out.  He forbade me from being around Charlie because he said that he turned me into a monster.  A few days later he started getting violent.  It was no longer verbal abuse that left me in tears, it was physical too.  He would bring over his friends and they would try and beat the gay out of me.  Or they would do, other, things to me.  After each session they would kick me into a corner and spit on me.  I tried to contact the police after one particularly bad incident but then I heard Father coming up the stairs so I hung up. 

“Charlie didn’t show up to school for the next month, and then when the news hit, it was like everything was over.  Charlie was found dead in his bathroom.  He had drowned himself in his bath tub.  “A real shame” my school called it.  At first I was numb, but when I came home and found a small piece of folded paper on my bed, I knew it was real.  His note was short and frank.  I still carry it in my wallet. 

“And over the past year or so the beatings got worse and I got addicted to things that took away reality.  Drugs.  Drinking.  Pain.  Anything to forget.  And then a few days ago Father roughed me up so bad that I thought I wasn’t gonna make it out.  So I left.  And then I met you.” I say quickly.  It feels weird knowing he knows everything now and I can’t look in his eyes.  I feel wetness on my cheeks and quickly move to wipe it away.  Dan is completely still next to me and the only thing I can hear is the program playing quietly in the background.

 After a minute of silence I finally look up.  Dan’s hands are covering his face and he’s making small noises.  I hold onto one of his wrists and he lowers his hands.  He’s crying as well and suddenly it’s like my strength breaks and I sob.  It’s the ugly type of crying, with messy tears and your mouth hanging open wide and snot dripping from your nose.  Dan crushes me to him as we both cry, him much quieter than me.  I slowly come back down to Earth and I hear him whisper something.  I strain to listen.

“Im so sorry Phil, I’ll never let him touch you again,” Dan whispers into my hair and I stay silent, catching my breath. 

Minutes pass as we slowly stop crying.  Exhaustion wracks my body.  Dan is whispering things again except this time I can’t make out exactly what he is saying.

I finally let my body slide into sleep but right before I think I can make out Dan say the words “I love you” but I can’t be sure.


End file.
